


A Familiar And I

by Sawadoot



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Gen, Multi, domestic evil au, he and chrome mosh it out to smash mouth, rewritten, tsuna unintentionally befriends eldritch horrors who like juice
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-10
Updated: 2017-11-20
Packaged: 2019-01-15 10:59:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12319692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sawadoot/pseuds/Sawadoot
Summary: Apple juice and stale peanut butter crackers taste best with after-school guests. That is to say, if one guest just happens to have a curved beak and two charmingly curled sideburns.





	1. a lesson in hospitality

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> rewritten 9/13/18

 

          

original insp work 10/10/17                           current insp work 6/3/18

 

* * *

 

 

 

The happiest moment Nana can recall over the past weekend, though another usual routine, was her little Tsuna tugging at her sleeve in the cracker aisle where they get his favorite animal-shaped crisps as an after-school snack. If he’s especially good sometimes, she’ll snag a package of vanilla cookies. This week it wasn’t the shiny B grade on his paper about cats. It wasn’t when Tsuna had proudly announced breakfast was served and placed a plate of slightly charred toast and overly salted scrambled eggs on her bed with bright eyes. It was four little words when she leaned down, and he whispered in her ear,

 

“I made a friend.” 

 

Elated with her little boy’s newest breakthrough she can’t help but squeeze his shoulders, drawing herself up at full height to ruffle his birds' nest hair affectionately. “That’s nice! Are they a schoolmate?” Tsuna seems to be thinking hard, staring at the various boxes that stretch impossibly wide across the grocery aisle. Big Bird sneakers are squeaking at the rubber bottoms. “He looks kind of funny? I don’t wanna hurt his feelings though so I’m not gonna say that.” He fiddles with the bright blue plaster on his cheek and Mama couldn’t be prouder.

 

“It’s very kind being nice to others.” She says, slipping a cookie package underneath the animal cracker box and pretending to be examining the price difference between two brands on the shelf. He still hadn’t mentioned if they were a schoolmate or not. “What’s his name?”

 

Tsuna bounces on the balls of his feet now, dragging one sneaker over a long scuff mark on the tile. “Reborn! ― He’s got a funny hat, ‘s neat! I don’t know his other name.” Understandable. Tsuna likely means his surname, which isn’t uncommon for a primary schooler. Reborn is a peculiar name but not unusual, stewing on it never crossed her mind. Tsuna needs his playmates. Nana’s son needs  _ friends. _

 

“Do you plan on bringing him over to play sometime, love?” The cart rattles its way down several aisles, collecting more items as they go. Filling the basket up, up, up! “Do I! I can’t wait for you to meet him, Mama, I can’t wait for you to meet Reborn!” Tsuna jitters with excitement, hardly able to pick out what flavor juice he wants over the idea of a playdate. Eventually, it’s decided that grape is the way to go since Apple was last week’s choice. Nana laughs along with him as Tsuna makes silly jokes up and down the store.

 

“I’m sure he’s a lovely boy.” Nana replies between weighing two blocks of cheese in her hands, invested in the quality of sharp cheddar. On the way back home she forgets the conversation entirely, and Tsuna falls asleep with his cheek pressed flat against the car window, cracker box cradled gently on his lap.

* * *

  
  
  
  


Something pestered Sawada Nana that coming Thursday afternoon. It nagged and pulled, and heaven forbid she know what it is tickling her memory, but she finally stops short while setting up her son’s after-school snack per usual. Despite the lack of understanding of what precisely caused Nana to do it, an extra place set with six crackers and a grape juice pouch. A short stack of napkins placed between the setup. 

 

When Tsuna’s tiny knock raps the front door, in need of a key soon enough to be safe, she’s all too glad to gently pull open the door, holding out her arms for a welcome home hug, Sawada tradition, she’d give a pretty penny to receive one of these from Iemitsu. Their embrace is warm, bittersweet, and oh, so cold. When her baby lets go of her waist, Nana sways a bit. It’s as if the world is suddenly balancing on one leg. 

 

That’s no child. Long, lanky, oddly bent legs certainly wouldn’t belong to anyone’s child at Namimori Primary. Little kids don’t wear leather brogues that look to be size ten. A wave of fear has Nana gathering Tsuna into her arms and squeezing tight. “Tsu… who is that?” Ever so kindly, he pushes a stray piece of mousey brown hair behind her left ear. His brightened tone of excitement drowning out anything else his little heart could have felt at the moment.  What a great eldritch horror. “Uh―”

 

Though she tries very hard as a mom, wife, and overall friendly person not to judge solely based on appearances, this type of acceptance is near impossible. The second that bird-headed man ducked beneath the door frame and stretched one long, long leg over the mudroom floor Nana is terrified. Even worse, he tips his fedora before opening his beak to reveal several rows of tiny sharp teeth along the hard edges of his large beak with a thick, “Good afternoon.”

 

The world tilts on its axis, playing an off-kilter note that sends tremors up Nana’s arms. “Tsu, what is― who _ is _ that?” Not her baby, not the little boy she cradles close in her arms at night and sings lullabies about pretty birds and sloping valleys. Tsuna’s tiny arms unwind from around her neck in excitement, and all she can think is no, no,  _ no  _ pull him back into safety. Don’t gobble him down whole, bird creature. Towering over them both, he’s taller than anything she’d met before. 

 

Nana screamed.

 

Clutching at the chair backing until her knuckles turned a ghastly white Nana screamed and screamed. Unable to hear anything over her terror, shaking down to her toes, her voice ripping from her throat so loudly it burned. Nana is going to throw up, or pass out, or be eaten alive by an eldritch horror dressed head to toe in expensive clothing, eyes boring into their skulls. Tears trickle down her cheeks. 

Tsuna’s panicked voice cut through frantic screams after a third try. “Don’t be rude to him!” And if that doesn’t choke Nana up mid-scream anything else never will. Tsuna’s cheeks are puffed out in annoyance, crossing his arms over his chest protectively. They stare at one another for the longest time. “Mama, he said hello. Please stop screaming,” He states ever so calmly, gently cupping her cheeks but Nana doesn’t know what to say. What can she say? Saying not to scream. “Tsuna, he has a  _ birds’ head.” _ You would think this obvious to a six-year-old. “So?” Tsuna moves protectively in front of his new friend and  _ grabs his hand.  _ “He can’t help it. ‘Cause he was born that way!” This child is far too friendly with his sound argument which in light of things is overly accepting, breaching ridiculous. 

 

“I apologize for causing quite the fright, Mama. My name is Reborn; it’s a pleasure to meet you. I’ve heard your cooking is the best in all the world.” Her mouth opens and closes for a few moments, floundering for words over the fear on the tip of her tongue. “Hello…” Nana finally managed although whispered weakly and close to tears. He called her Mama― incredible. 

 

Nana wants to cry, scream, beg Reborn to leave their house and yet watching Tsuna invite him into a chair much too small for his body and pass him a juice pouch there’s no possible way Reborn could sip from yet attempted to anyhow, her mouth clicked shut. Tonight will be a vodka kind of night. Ten ‘o clock sharp. Today she will let him stay unless he eats the cat.

 

Reborn is some warped manifestation of alter-evil sitting properly at their kitchen table, sipping from a cheap plastic straw with his beak. He leans over adjusting Tsuna’s collar reprimanding him for being untidy, saying that people like sweet little boys not scuffed up looking ones. Tsuna’s face turned pink with embarrassment. 

 

He needs friends. 

  
Be it a creature of darkness or a child come over to play Nana will remember to set out extra snacks from now on. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm rewriting the current chapters before we move forward! My style has improved quite a lot, and I don't think I could pick up where I started and leave them as they are. Lmk what you think!


	2. snack time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> rewritten 9/13/18

 

10/15/17

* * *

 

That child Sawada’s lack of self-preservation both shocked and delighted Reborn, he’s always fond of a little mischief, and this human child is filled to the brim with all kinds of silly tricks and adventures. It was almost suspicious at first, a child approaching him free of all inhibitions, not the slightest bit perturbed at the curve of his beak or the gleam of his eyes, going so far as to ask if Reborn were lost and in need of directions which caused a good laugh.

 

He’s a little fool, this being Reborn’s first impression as Tsunayoshi invited him over to sit on the swings and read his pretty picture book out loud before tripping over nothing, kissing the dirt in a clumsy act of two left feet. He’s an awkward boy, and far too slow in several specific ways. But oh, his intuition is so worth it, that and the exciting display of human binary. It wasn’t an intuition Tsuna had for himself, though, dedicated to others.

 

Tsuna can predict when another is about to trip or perhaps befall a moment of incredible joy, or maybe tragedy. He catches smaller children about to slip on the playground. He rescues a baby bird. And he’s terrified of dogs. It’s silly how an accident waiting to happen can predict other catastrophes before they happen. For the sake of boredom, Reborn finds an interest in Tsuna who recompensates his attention with a new surprise around every corner. There’s never a dull moment when you befriend a boy with wide brown eyes and a knack for finding trouble wherever he goes.

 

He is kind to a fault, as refreshing as it is, the act is irritating most times when cursed with the misfortune of becoming a living doormat. 

 

The juices that Mama sets out are surprisingly delicious although they do nothing for his monstrous appetite that takes quite a while to sate, they have a sweet taste, however. The humans are happy with his social visits, and the feeling makes his kind crawl. It feels sour enough to ruffle his feathers, but after a bit, one gets used to it. Tsuna sits across from him in a ridiculous dog-ear hoodie, fiddling absently with his plastic straw and counting the number of animal crackers on his plate. “So, you’re considered handsome by your friends ― right?” 

 

“Are you implying that I’m any less than  _ dazzling?” _ Human years fly fast, and now Tsuna is nine years old, still as bratty as the day they first met, and it’s interesting how earth years are said to drag on, but they’ve gone in two blinks. 

 

Tsuna stares at him then snorts. “I guess you look nice in your way. I don’t think dazzling is the right word.” He’s going to squash this kid like a gnat. “But y’know, I’ve only seen you shift forms once, and you seem to favor the bird look so― I was just wondering if your friends like it, too.” The irritating sound of a juice box in the process of being sucked dry follows immediately after. “It doesn’t matter whether others approve or despise of me. I don’t care. It’s comfortable, which is certainly well enough, and I am handsome looking no matter what the shape that I take.” Reborn clicked his beak.

 

“So then are you saying your friends like it― or that you don’t have any friends to approve of how you look.”

 

“This is ridiculous.”

 

“Reborn you have no friends, that's so sad.” That one earns him a quick smack across the head for his cheekiness.

 

“That was so rude,” Tsuna mutters as he rubs at the back of his aching skull. He snatches Reborn’s juice box off the table and takes a big, long sip. “You were stepping out of line.” Reborn hums distractedly, waving the boy off. Tsuna mutters quiet insults into his straw but what good does the word “ugly,” do against a nightmare whos very existence relies on feeding off grudges and curses. If anything they only strengthen him at the core. When Reborn kicks at Tsuna’s chair leg the muttering dissolves into reluctant silence.

 

He’s scared for only a moment. Then the usual chatter resumes between bites, crumbs spilling everywhere as he talks. Human children are utterly  _ stupid _ . But it was simple, though he doesn’t necessarily  _ need _ mortal food, the meals that Nana cooks are delicious to an almost irresistible standard. And children are good entertainment for boorish days even managing to impress him once every blue moon. So Reborn enjoys killing time in the Sawada kitchen.

 

Sawada Junior is someone who would never pet a dog for fear of losing a finger or two but would willingly eat food off the floor of any public establishment no matter how trampled. Granted neither decision strikes him as brave or  _ smart _ but human impulses are a circus all their own. And Tsuna is going to kill himself on accident before anything else seldom has a chance to snatch him up.

 

“Are you mocking me right now?” Fingers that can be easily bent, quickly snapped in two to further note, are awkwardly attempting at shoving a cracker into his beak and oh, Reborn knows what this little shit is thinking. Parrots are household pets trained to talk for the amusement of their owners, something which Reborn certainly  _ is not. _ “I am not going to eat that.”

 

“You’re so boring.” His words caused Reborn to blink. As a manifestation that humans sell their souls to experience the thrill of a single wish this is new. “And you’re so ill-mannered, Tsuna.” Oh, Lal.

 

She appeared in three seconds flat surrounded by wafting incense, and the whole kitchen shook with a low rumble, and the colors shifted black, red, yellow before fading into their previous mundane hues. Lal is quite small, significantly shorter than Tsuna due to her energy consumption not quite reaching its peak. Her black hair was wisping every which way for the speed she’d arrived, and sharp red eyes narrowed into slits, the symbol on her cheek only highlighting them further. At four-foot-three, her stance can still be considered intimidating. Lal has no sense of humor, that’s why she’ll never find the situation as amusing as Reborn does right this moment. Someone must’ve broken her funny bone a long time ago.

 

Instead of adequately greeting him Lal’s fists slam against the tabletop, blinking for a moment almost warily upon the realization she’s in the Sawada kitchen and that there are several crackers beneath her fists that crushed them to a fine powder. Humans are ugly. And the cheese in those snacks smells like processed bullshit. “Reborn.” The nightmare in question feigns surprise, “yes?” If looks could kill. “What are you doing?”

 

“It’s snack time.”

 

Her face reddens, the room reddens, the kitchen is boiling. If Lal were strong enough she’d go straight for the jugular because of this, pray she not utter any curse under Verde’s watch, running off per usual moments before the meeting they’d specially arranged a date for and fucking around in a middle-class human abode. “Why is that horrible thing looking at me?” The room mellowed into a lukewarm pink the second she made full on eye contact with a―

 

“Don’t tell me you’re afraid of a human child?” Reborn is far more amused than the asshole should be. He feels a familiar warm stretch of skin wind around his hand because of course in times of uncertainty Tsuna would slip his hand into Reborn’s, threading their fingers together disgustingly intimate. Lal is plenty to be uncertain of seeing as how the first thing she’d done upon arriving is beat the furniture. “I most certainly am  _ not.” _ Lal snapped, her pride as a level-headed soldier and respected futakuchi-onna regaining control. After all, she doesn’t merely devour and nothing more.

 

“I’m not strong.” Tsuna states, hushed. Lal glares, and he stares back blankly. “Well, I know that―”

 

“Then do you want to join us?”

 

_ “NO!” _ And then she sat down in the vacant seat. Juice as a secondary peace offering when Tsuna proudly states it’s something that has taken Reborn’s fancy. “You should know better than to ditch your friend.” That is quite possibly Tsuna’s fifth juice, Reborn should cut him off soon, or Mama would be upset. Goodness knows how anyone can have room for supper after a stomach full of apple juice. “That’s enough of those. Lal is no friend of mine.” Tsuna grapples and fails at hoarding the remaining pouches.

 

Lal is quietly contemplating as she drinks her strange new beverage. It tastes oddly delicious. “I would rather be erased from existence than be any friend to Reborn.” She shrugs over a sip. “That’s so petty!” Tsuna gasps dramatically. Lal raises her eyebrows, and Reborn raises his metaphorical eyebrows considering he has none. 

 

“If you won’t even attempt at getting along that makes you bad. And bad people don’t have any friends. Especially mean spirits.” There’s a finality in Tsuna’s voice to which Lal sputters, “we are not spi―” Bags clatter at the kitchen entrance. Nana stands there purse in hand, looking at the trio gathered around the table rather than her fallen groceries. There’s a bird man, a dead woman, and her son sitting comfortably between the two. “Mama, you’re back! That is Reborn’s friend; her name is Lal.” 

 

As Tsuna scrambled from his seat, Lal flashed a look that chilled Nana to her very bones. She sighed into his neck, arms wrapped around his small shoulders. Oh, what is to become of her only son? 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 20 days later............... chapter 2? I'll begin chapter layouts I think and that might help with any sort of consistent motivation lmao
> 
> For clarification Lal is about canon arcobaleno size while Tsuna is a little below average size for a ten year old child. Reborn is the size of a grown adult. Therefore we have some interesting size differences across the Sawada snack time table
> 
> 9/13/18 edit: What's up my dudes! Hope this chapter suits you.


	3. squabbling fools

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> rewritten 9/13/18

“You aren’t kind,” Tsuna says with half his body draped upside-down across the couch. He’s staring up at Reborn seriously, lips pursed in thought. He’s such an idiot. “I’m demonic in nature, Tsuna.” Reborn replies, irritably adjusting his fedora further up his head and scanning the coffee table for the TV remote. “That’s no excuse,” His young charge states now further off the couch than two seconds before as he wiggles his socked feet and flexes his toes. The look of sheer disbelief Reborn sends him has Tsuna’s eyes crossing. If Reborn had eyebrows they’d be furrowed together or halfway up his forehead the way his skin creased, beak slightly agape.

 

All that escapes his slack jaw is a hostile, “what?”

 

Tsuna stares him down, upside-down, his hands jammed into the fleece pockets of his jacket. Determined to think he can win this argument,  _ seriously? _ Reborn still towers over him, leering, the only difference being Tsuna’s grow to a whole five and a half feet at thirteen. The years spinning as they unwind themselves, Tsuna’s known Reborn practically all his life while for himself it’s been hardly any time at all. He leans forward just enough to prod until things relapse into an argument.

 

“Controlling what you do and say ―”

 

“Is a fundamental of mankind.”

 

Tsuna eyed him up and down, weighing his words. Maybe even stalling for Lal to appear and take up his side of the argument, they’ve become chummy the past four years often ganging up on Reborn. Lal spends considerable time often visiting to watch soap operas with Nana or discuss battle tactics over their snack table of three. “What you have no morals?” Tsuna picks at the lint of his jacket, looking lost.

 

“If that were the case I’d have gobbled you up the first chance I had. You make my head hurt so much with all these silly questions.” 

 

Tsuna fidgets impatiently, fingers running over a couch seam absently. “The summarize it.” The corners of his mouth twitched upwards into a half smirk. They’re gravitating towards dangerous territory now. “Dumb it down for me.” 

 

“I doubt any method of elaboration could reach your level of understanding anyhow.”

 

“You haven’t even tried! You’re the reason I’m going to grow up ignorant! I’ll be blind to everything, and it’s all your fault.” He ought to shut his mouth right the fuck now. Reborn is far too old to be taking this level of backtalk from a human metaphorically taken under his wing. No father in the picture? Just as well. Reborn does dabble in a thought or two about showing Tsuna the wonders of his world, or terrors, but ultimately decides against it. This child has already been traumatized by last week’s incident with a blender and three very eager ghosts, insistent that hands entirely do belong inside of it when turned on.

 

“I have different fundamental laws,” Where is that goddamn remote? “In all our time I thought it’d become clear, but your mind is still underground as always.” He’s purposely egging his young charge on, trying subtly to look like he hardly cares for the remote, his ticket to a relaxing afternoon. And there it goes, ciao! Where the hell Tsuna’s sudden burst of confidence (or lack of self-preservation) had come from is grating on his nerves.

 

“All I hear is squawking.”

 

Oh, oh shit. “ _ What?”  _ That’s the last straw, Sawada better hope that his head manages to stay attached to his neck.

 

Tsunayoshi looks him directly in the eyes from his soft spot on the couch, he opens his mouth, “You’re squawking away like a common bird, Reborn.”

 

What bravery. Die mad, Sawada Tsunayoshi you _brat._ **“How dare you.”** His eyes are round as saucer when the floor shifts, shakes, and the walls tremble and groan over the noise of rattling metal. Expensive china was dangerously clinking on the mantel, that’s Mama’s wedding china. Several pictures make themselves known that they’re about to fall as the thump against the tremors in the walls. And oh, Tsuna is nervous indeed. **“I am no creature to compare against your witless birds.”** The big voice only used in critical moments of establishing the pecking order, right now Tsuna lies somewhere at the bottom of it all.

 

“Fine! You’re a― big bird, ethereal―”

 

The china clanks louder in warning.

 

“I don’t know what you are, but it isn’t a common bird!” Tsuna throws his hands up in exasperation. The room is spinning; he feels a little sick trying to keep lunch from coming back up. “I take it back!” This hissy fit needs to stop. Before everything fragile breaks including their house, which sounds like it’ll cave in at any moment. All at once, everything ends.

 

“Good. Now that you’ve learned a valuable lesson I won’t be hearing any more of that slander from this point forward.” Reborn has no hint of inflection in his voice as he works on smoothing over the crisp blazer pocket and patting down his sideburns which were disturbed from their perfect precision in that bout of anger. That was surely one way to gain the upper hand. Must be nice to have an arsenal of power at your fingertips.

 

“God,” Tsuna is doubled over the carpet as he clutches his spinning head, flexing his left hand with a grimace. You’d think after all this time he’d be used to this type of intimidation. “That was an underhanded win.” The birdman shrugs, finally having discovered the remote between the coffee table and floor. “It’s not my fault you’re so weak minded.” Sharp teeth poke out of his beak in a jeer, one scraggly hand reaching up to adjust his fedora rim. 

 

“Dumb.” Taking a new interest in the softness of their carpet and scrambling to the most spread out position possible he could manage while still achieving level comfort distracts Tsuna, facedown in one of the throw pillows as a cheesy sitcom fills the room with laughter and flashing images. He thinks they may be dancing behind his eyes. “Hvy, Rvbern,” A thought strikes Tsuna half-asleep, words are muffled by the pretty throw pillow. “Have you ever met a nightmare with the ability to turn into plants?”

 

“No. Why? Don’t go near it.” The older of the two keeps his eyes trained on the screen while he clicks through channels, some terrible as revealed by Tsuna’s telltale groan of annoyance. 

 

“I didn’t― I mean I’m not going to! I was just curious,” Suspicious. “That’s all.” Burying his face into his arms is the only plausible action upon coming to the conclusion that Reborn will probably watch something boring. A couple of clicks and the laugh track on TV lowers in volume. Tsuna has to strain to hear Reborn’s next words, eyes boring a tunnel through his skull and onto the far wall probably. “Why are you bringing this to my attention just now? It’s not as if you have to worry about meeting one.”

 

“Well, I think I made one mad at me, somehow.” The volume lowers more.

 

“Oh? And how did you manage that?” As he thought, human children are utter fools. Leave one on their own, and they’ll run past every boundary. It started out as amusement, and now this whole ordeal is going to end in himself breaking up some pointless quarrel that could have started with as much as staring at someone cross-eyed. He’ll keep his head for now,

 

who knows when he’ll need it next. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's leading up i swear i s we ar. Reborn is still extra and Tsuna still has no human friends to this date
> 
> 9/13/18: these chapters are very short because once upon a time I'd only write chapters with 1k words and call it a day. I've extended the existing rewrites based on content but they're still too short for my liking :(((


	4. sing me a tune

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> rewritten 9/14/18

He scribbles over the blurred lines in blue crayon with all the best intentions. Winding his fingers through the ins and outs of your entire being, sifting through the wispy strands of dark grey and black. You’ve received a fraction of one being with a soul, and yet it’s guilty, so very guilty come judgment day. That fraction cradled in a viselike grip, he had no idea what he’s doing. Inexperienced hands are breaking you. You could never feed off love.

 

Rage, grief, all the most intense emotions drawn from dark alleys or peeling wallpapered rooms, carefully close up. All of which to live, driving others to madness to eat a proper meal. Fools eat poison willingly from a little boy’s hand under the guise of genuine curiosity which killed the cat, but satisfaction cannot bring you back.

 

This is how empires fall, one by one.

  
  


Reborn sat hunched over the kitchen island’s smooth granite countertop slowly nursing his third blistering hot coffee, for such a bitter substance he doesn’t find it sharp enough. It’s unbefitting of his little friend to be festering with such conflicting things, silly worries. Staring point blank at him from across the adjoined living room, book in one hand, pen in the other, is Tsuna. Reborn knows he’s been at this for quite a while, but he wishes to be alone with his thoughts and ground beans. “What?”

 

Tsuna jumped predictably, open book spilling out of his lap and onto the carpet. He hastily closes it as if Reborn couldn’t just walk over and find his most recent page in fifteen seconds. “You know, for all the time I’ve known you, Tsuna, you’ve always been a truly terrible liar even when you haven’t spoken a word. Bring that here.” Reborn crooked his finger, summoning the boy closer. To which said boy groans, heaving himself over the side of the couch, and hitting the floor. Lying facedown to psych himself up for this and maybe buy a minute of time for composure. Eventually, when the farse is standing on its last shaky legs, he heaves himself up, shuffling over join Reborn at the counter.

 

Reborn opens his palm, Tsuna grudgingly dropping the leather-bound journal into his hand but not without a bit of complaint still hovering over his friend’s shoulder with every intention of reclaiming his property given the opportunity. A nerve-wracking moment of spindly fingers, silently turning through the pages of ink drawings that transition from cruder to eventually smoother, practiced pictures had him holding baited breath.

 

“Is this research?” Reborn finally says.

 

“Yeah, don’t laugh though.” Tsuna fully expects him to laugh what with his lack of artistic ability and insatiable curiosity. Lal, Reborn, a few others he can count on one hand, he wants to know more about them all. After all, they know more about him then they ought to down to the number of hairs on his head. “I’m curious.” Reborn’s eyes fixated on the nice marker sketch of himself from the peculiar arc of his feet and legs to the tufts of feathery hair on his head which Tsuna has been dying to touch for quite a while. “I never said it was laughable.”

 

Tsuna’s eyes nearly bulge out of his skull when he adds, “I’m also curious.” His expression shifts from shock to minor disbelief as if the thought of acceptance had never occurred. “Really?” His voice is hushed. One claw-like finger taps the sketch, drawing Tsuna’s attention to it. Now he isn’t one to trust the nightmare’s roundabout words daily but wasn’t this just too convenient a way of killing time? He might not be so opposed to small adventures.

 

“Yes. Why do you want to know all these things?” The same hand travels down the page lingering over messily printed notes jotted on the sides and bottom. “I find them interesting.” Tsuna shrugs, pulling a stool alongside the counter and sitting down on it. “Like your eating habits, I know you don’t need our food, and it doesn’t necessarily taste good, right?” Reborn’s silence is a cue to continue. “So if you feed off the most negative emotions, things that would drive people to kill, but don’t need basic food then I have a theory. You swallow those things to regulate your power stability, at least I think? And you’ve never eaten the negate things with your mouth, don’t you absorb them or something?” It’s Reborn’s turn to be surprised.

 

“I see.” His lack of words certainly contributes to the shock of his charge’s observations. Maybe he’s been noting things more carefully than originally thought. Since when? “And? The others?”

 

“Well, Lal feeds off physical food because her needs are more materialistic, she’s always gobbling up food with her second mouth, but she never eats a lot in front of me, so I don’t know about that one.” Reborn is already writing things into his observation book; this is so surreal.

 

“That’s half the truth,” Reborn says over pen scratches. “Lal is a mixture of both needs. Negative energy contributes to her strength. Material food satisfies her hunger. It’s more for settling her stomach than anything else.” Tsuna hovers beside, cramming in things with a spare pen at the same time. “Oh! I see.” A rushed doodle of a sandwich and dark clouds stand out beside his new facts.

 

The next thirty minutes they corrected facts and swapped ideal theories. Quiet mornings are scarce now, and soon the book lies hastily stuffed into Tsuna’s school bag. Realizing he’s running late with sloppily tied shoes and an untucked shirt. Spilling some papers as he stumbles out the door a charm is amongst them. Now, Reborn knows those flimsy things wouldn’t do a damn fraction of damage against him as he turns it in his hands, mind running a mile a minute.

 

Tsuna has no reason to be warding him off so then, who exactly is he trying to protect himself against?

 

Perhaps after the fourth cup of espresso Reborn will visit Namimori Middle, after all his third cup is lukewarm now and he’s especially bored. A leisurely stroll might be enjoyable. And maybe some trouble at their expense. He laughs at the thought, cupping his hands around a burning hot coffee pot.

 

* * *

  


There’s always this voice so unsettling that punctures through Tsuna’s thoughts while in school, like nails dragging across a chalkboard. He doesn’t want to exchange friendly conversation with them he wants the voice to shut up and leave him alone. But lately, there are so many things more pressing towards his fears that Tsuna doesn’t precisely fear even his biggest bully, Mochida. He knows Kensuke is using him as an outlet to receive higher praise, swooping in to correct his everything. And there are worse things to deal with than that, nightmares included.

 

He thinks the voice might be a nightmare, too. Or some yokai from an urban legend. For whatever reason, they have it out for him just like everyone else at this school. So telling Mochida to shut it while he lies his head on the desk to better circulate his thoughts can be considered a power move.

 

Words have always grappled and held their leverage but what stung, even more, was the nails that had dug into his arm yesterday, literally. Maybe they’re a classmate? Thoughts argue with Tsuna that if it were the case he’d have noticed direct hostility earlier on, so goes the neverending spiral of theories. The only thing he can recall is offering a lonely student half his lunch.

 

He can’t tell Reborn the bare bones of this even if they’d had a pleasant chat this morning. Did he pack the wrong charm? Pull the string of fate? Tsuna’s bag is crammed full of charms one of them is bound to protect him. Intuition whispers he’ll need them and being overly precautious he’s more than happy to comply.

 

Won’t they hurry up, oh―

 

Can they read subconsciouses? He feels queasy, Tsuna’s body feels wrong. The classroom is unbearably stuffy despite the open windows; the air is too sticky, stuffy. Reluctantly he raises his hand; this is what they want isn’t it. “Yes, Sawada?” Their homeroom teacher isn’t too pleased with his hand shooting up mid-way through her lesson as to why a specific formula applies to their daily lives and Tsuna can gather enough sympathy not to blame her. “I feel unwell,” Heat crept up his neck. “May I be excused to visit the infirmary?” All eyes are on him.

 

Slowly, decisively she says, “Yes, you may.” With a grateful nod, he stumbles from his desk, legs feeling like lead as he wobbles to the door. How did things turn out like this? Here wandering the empty halls, leaning all his weight against the cold metal of the locker doors to steady himself, palming them as he goes. Despite these things his arms are shaking, legs ready to give out at a moments notice. Oh, sudden flu? Don’t think so. Tsuna doesn’t _feel_ too sick it’s just that his body― something’s wrong with it― he almost gives in to the sensation of his legs wanting to buckle painfully at the knees and lie across grainy tile floors decorated in shoe scuffs and empty wrappers that never entirely made it to a trash bin.

 

He can’t be caught by whatever the other realm has in store. A steel water fountain covered in stains is the perfect rest stop to catch a breath or two, his sneakers scuffing the floor in unsteady and unyielding steps. Attempting to regulate his fast breaths into relative normalcy.

 

_I’m about to be eaten._

 

But they’ve never touched him before so were his observations incorrect? Even the tree branches outside seem to be swaying with an urgent warning. “Shit,” Dropping to a crawl is manageable. “Shit, shit, shit, shit―” His arms are desperately raking up the hall like a madman spilling profanities from his mouth, crawling along the ground on most likely bruised knees.

 

Tsuna can hardly move. Time slows achingly, breaching unbearable. Grungy tile now turned scalding hot instead of welcoming cool. He can’t tell attempting to breathe, heaving up and down, if this is a panic attack or something worse. Maybe he’s in a personal hell, lying there on his side with a cheek pressed against the floor, is this what dying feels like? _I’m dead, completely fucked._

 

The hardly withstandable burning is suddenly receding so fast Tsuna’s body jolts, shuddering as it returns to cold once more. Through a jumble of phrases he weakly reaches for whoever is approaching fast. “Please...don’...” Cotton filled ears were suddenly blocking out any form of reply, and he can’t help but wonder why the fuck Reborn is never around at times like these before drifting off into uncomfortable static.

* * *

  
  


After downing another two cups he’s resigned to drinking directly out of the pot, having abandoned his stained mug in the mostly empty sink, there’s no twinge of guilt as expected. All proper research requires two things, patience and observation. Though it’d be quite amusing to stomp on this landmine early and watch their face curl back into an unbridled rage- as usual, it might be an excellent testing bed for what Tsuna actually could do.

 

Any hint of power to none Reborn does like exciting developments. After all, kids need to handle themselves sometimes, and it isn’t as if Tsuna had been about to die. He sloshes the remaining lukewarm coffee around in the Sawada’s nearly empty pot. Paying a visit to school _after_ finishing this off is okay.

 

“He’s in capable hands anyhow,” Reborn mumbles this into the glass, and so begins the soap which will become their daily lives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bitch gonna have it coming to them that's all i've got
> 
> 9/14/18: I combined both chapter 4 and 5 because why the fuck were they so short? I'd go back in time and sock myself. Idk how soon actual new chapters will be out but I'm planning on breaking off from my bnha fics for a bit. See you later!

**Author's Note:**

> tiny seasonal ficlet stuff, v minor and vauge interest ay
> 
> (art on khrkin tumblr dot com)


End file.
